Shattered Pieces
by MemorySteel
Summary: Two humans fall. They are found by a certain skeleton in Snowdin- Penelope and her big brother, Tanner. Both have their secrets. Both are being hunted. Both are powerful- perhaps even more so than Frisk... / this is terrible to the power of egregious. I may one day revive it, but do yourself a favor and DO NOT READ. /
1. Chapter 1

A figure struggles through the thigh-high snow drifts. His teeth chatter. He is carrying a girl. Everyone thinks she is his sister.

Everyone is wrong.

They are both thin and haggard. He is perhaps seventeen; she, twelve, though mature for her age. He has black hair and eyes and fair skin. She, however, has pale red hair, fair skin spattered with freckles and eyes like two chips of ice- dark at the edges, lightest closest to the pupil. She is sleeping in his arms, lips tinged blue. He is far worse off, however- shivering hard enough to keep the snow off his shoulders, but not enough to keep him warm; any heat that the constant flexing-relaxing motions produce is immediately lost due to the thrice-patched, ill-fitting clothes. They are both running, which, until now, has never worked for them.

In a final burst of luck, both had fallen into a place so forgotten that not even the person hunting them could follow.

In any case, she probably thought they had been finished off hours ago.

Everyone thinks he loves her as a little sister.

Everyone is right.

Tanner stumbled ever onwards through the snow.

He'd gotten used to the cold, used to the shivering, used to the fire in his legs, arms and abdomen, used to the burning hole where his stomach used to be, used to the dry thing that is his throat.

The warmth, though, was new.

It called to him, whispering promises of release from his discomfort- relaxation instead of exhaustion, cool soothing instead of intense burning.

Warmth instead of cold.

Death instead of life.

Tanner caved.

(Literally and figuratively.)

He dug a snow cave.

He made sure to poke a hole, so he could breathe.

He curled his body around his sister, who was sleeping on his jacket because he was _too_ warm, a sensation he'd almost forgotten.

He stopped shivering.

For every degree of warmth his core temperature his body lost, it was the warmer his sister felt. She stirred slightly, nestling further.

He almost died.

He would need a miracle to make him alive again.

* * *

Sans meandered among the snow, thinking of socks.

This patrol was just as interesting as the last. Which was to say, not at all. At first, he'd worn himself to a frazzle, running around like a displaced ant looking for the kid.

Frisk.

Some days, it felt like the entire universe rotated around the little fudgepot.

Prob'ly cuz it did.

Sigh. He kicked a snow poff idly. It collapsed in on itself.

Sans froze.

Whut.

The he-eck.

Was that.

Holy fudge, they were still there.

…

$&%.

Just $&%.

The smaller one stirred.

It mumbled, "Broth'r…"

God.

That was Fate, all right. He'd learned to recognize the female dog.

Uuuuuuugh

Fiiiiiine

I'll save them already

Scat

 _Thank_ you.

Sigh. Stoop over, scoop the smaller one up, pick up the larger one with blue magic. Hmm. Pretty sure humans weren't supposed to be that stiff. Prolly just the cold, tho. He found a shortcut and walked through it with a soft _vmmmzzz_.

A few milliseconds later, he arrived at their house. Dum dee dum… Why don't we put _you_ on the couch, and you… Uh, right here should do. Okay. He was no great shakes at healing, but might as well give it a try. Big one first. If he healed the smaller one all the way, It might wake up and havoc would ensue.

Call it survival instincts, ha.

Sans put his hands on the human's chest and slipped through the door of reality.

He opened his eye sockets to a world darker than pitch.

Huh.

That was weird.

He turned slowly where he stood. Nothing. The human's soul-dream was completely blank. Nope, wait, spoke too soon. There was, indeed, something. Sans walked closer until he was near enough to touch it.

A tiny, fingernail-sized point of light hovered at eye level.

This was _not_ good.

Creatures with souls had a kind of dream-magic in their soul plane, always. It manifested as their 'avatar', a three-dimensional doodle equivalent of themselves. The dream plane was always colorful- red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, violet, white.

Black meant death.

Sans furrowed his brow. This human should have been dead a long time ago. Whatever was keeping it alive was _not_ determination- he should know.

The light shivered and shrank a little, snapping Sans out of it. _Penelope_ , it whispered. He reached out, touched it, and gave some of his HoPe to it. Not too much. He'd need Papyrus for this, and quickly.

For a moment, Sans contemplated just letting this thing die in peace. One less anomaly to deal with. Literally all he needed to do was sit back and wait, tell anybody who wanted to know that it had been dead when he brought it to his house.

Holy fudge, what the actual fricking heck is wrong with me.

What Would Papyrus Do?

Well, Papyrus would have had higher HP in the first place.

… Aaand if he didn't…?

He would have found his bro and, again, healed him already, you couch potato.

Sans sighed and came back to himself.

Then he took the same shortcut and ambled around for a while.

Finally he gave up and started cracking puns.

Loudly.

All of them were centered around snow.

At last, he heard his brother.

"BROTHER! WOULD YOU STOP THOSE AWFUL PUNS!"

"gonna hafta catch me first."

Sans walked around a tree to the first shortcut he saw. Papyrus tromped in his footsteps around a pine and right through the shortcut, which Sans had held open for Pap to step through.

"- THEY ARE COMPLETELY TASTELESS AND ARE THE LOWEST FORM OF HUMOR, IN FACT-"

Papyrus came to a standstill, openmouthed and frozen. Then he clapped his hands over his teeth.

"BROTHER! WHAT IS WRONG WITH THEM?! WHY ARE THEY SLEEPING?!" He gasped and plucked Sans up by the hoodie. "HAVE YOU INFECTED THEM WITH LAZINESS?! TELL MEEE!"

"bro, calm yourself," grinned Sans. "they need healed and I can't. 1 HP, remember?"

Papyrus set down his twin, dusting him off. "OF COURSE! THE GREAT PAPYRUS WILL HEAL THEM LIKE NO ONE HAS HEALED ANYONE ELSE BEFORE!" He struck a pose. "WATCH AND LEARN!"

He plopped down on the carpet, taking the bigger human's hands in his own, frowning with concentration. After a moment, his eye socket took on a green haze. His frown deepened to one of incredulity. His eye burned brighter, brighter still, until the humans chest stumbled to a start and began to rise and fall- the rhythm of life. Still, he pressed harder, until the tips of the human's fingers, toes, nose and ears began to burn a bright green. Sans frowned and laid his palm on his brother's shoulder.

Papyrus started so badly Sans thought he'd been electrocuted. "WHA- OH. HELLO, BROTHER." He frowned again and waved his hands in frustration. "THEY… THEY… HOW… WHAT HAPPENED?"

"i think they 'bout froze to death," muttered Sans. He inclined his head towards the larger human. "and don't ask me. i ain't gotta clue as to how the heck they're still alive."

Papyrus hummed thoughtfully and healed the smaller human, muttering something about his spaghetti.

Sans took a nap.

Papyrus finished and went to make pasta.

The smaller human began to wake.

* * *

 **Chapter the first! tell me if you like it.**


	2. Chapter 2: Wake

Penelope groaned.

She'd never had such a terrible headache.

Except, of course, for that one time.

 _Always_ except that one time.

'"Ugh," she muttered. "Tanner? Where are yo-"

She opened her eyes to a skeleton napping while standing up.

She tried to scream. Her larynx wasn't functioning like it should've been.

She squinched her eyes shut, pinched herself.

Nope. Still there.

Finally, she settled on something that humans were very good at-ignored the skeleton- and took stock of the situation.

Landscapes were important. Uphill advantages- or disadvantages- things to hide behind, water sources, all could benefit you or your enemy. This landscape was… Simultaneously shockingly mundane and casually extraordinary. There were no long-handled scythes in the umbrella stand, just a couple of bones. The carpet was a (rather loud and slightly disgusting) blue-and-magenta chevron. The soft thing she was laying on- a lumpy, careworn green couch- contrasted oddly, but not unpleasantly. Directly across from her sat a television, of all things. It was turned off. There was two doorways she could see clearly- one presumably leading to the kitchen, according to the tile- and one with stairs, leading to a second floor. There may have been the slightest hint of a third, slimmer doorway over the back of the overstuffed furniture, but there was no way to tell for certain, unless Penne sat up. Which sounded like one of the worst ideas in the world right now.

Also in the landscape was something she cared about very, very much-Tanner.

Penne sat up, immediately regretted it, and hissed as her feet brushed the carpet. This was going to be _so_ fun. She hesitantly tried putting her weight on her feet, but gave up after a moment. It felt like knives were being stabbed into the soles of her feet, pain echoing up her shins and into her spine. Changing her tactics, she awkwardly knelt, arms shaking as they lowered her knees, and crawled over to Tanner.

His eyes were closed. She knew he was breathing, but she checked his pulse just in case, sagging in relief as she felt the faint, steady movement. Then she wrapped her right hand around his left, brushing his hair away from his face.

Oh, Tanner.

You've done this a hundred times before and made it, but I still have to ask…

 _Please_ wake up.

Please.

"heh. you really care about him."

Penelope's head snapped up. The… s _keleton_ … Had woken up.

She answered, even though it was a statement. "Yeah. I care about Tanner a lot."

Pregnant silence, filled with worry.

"i really hope you like spaghetti."

Penne started. "Huh?"

"i hope you like spaghetti."

"No, I heard you, it's just- _spaghetti_? What?"

Sans grinned a little wider. "my bro's makin' spaghetti's what. he has quite the **penne** chant for pasta, but **tibia** honest he wasn't very good at first."

Penne blinked.

"What."

He just grinned. Penne began to wonder if that was a skeleton thing.

Penelope sighed and looked back down at Tanner. "What happened?"

The grin faded. He rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably.

"i found you two under a pile of snow," he said. "both unconscious. in fact, i was pretty sure that sleeping beauty here was dead until i tried to heal him. barely made it, even with Papyrus' help." He nodded to her brother- a sign of respect, she realized- and continued. "you got one heck of a brother there, kiddo. take good care of him."

"I try," she murmured in return. "But sometimes he'll do something stupid, like sacrifice his well-being for mine." Penne rubbed his forehead with her thumb. "And blame himself for every fall, even if it's not his fault. You know?"

She looked up at him. He looked… older than his years. Quietly exhausted of life. Like he'd seen too much in too little time.

"i know better than you'd think, kid."

* * *

Tanner felt like absolute $&%.

He hovered, directly over the line between 'Pain' and 'Unconsciousness'.

Something had pulled him away from the warmth. It was green, and stung like lemon juice on an open papercut. He was very annoyed at the green.

Very.

In the hazy state sandwiched twixt waking and sleeping, he could hear things.

A baritone rumble.

Clattering pans.

And a voice he felt he should _know_ , somehow.

Time did not count, here, but eventually he felt himself teetering towards 'Pain'-that is, wakefulness. He really just wanted to ignore the problem until it _went away_.

Tanner fell back to the light.

Blink.

Ow.

Breathe.

Ouch.

Cough.

OW STOP KILLING ME PLEASE MAKE IT STOP

Someone gasped.

The coughing subsided.

"Tanner-!"

Oh.

Oh, God, Penne.

I forgot.

I-

I-

"Hey, Sis," He croaked. Talking hurt almost as bad as coughing. It was worth it, though, because it was for her. His hand found hers.

She scowled at him, and thwapped him in the arm, very lightly. He tried hiding the pain, because _holy fudge OUCH_. "Don't you _dare_ scare me like that _again_ , you dweeb."

He grinned lopsidedly. "Love ya right back." Penelope began to chatter about spaghetti and where they were and who had found them and...

Motion in his peripheral vision. As a gut instinct, he stiffly rotated his head to see what it was (ouch).

…

Huh.

Figures.

At first, brief disbelief. A skeleton? They needed muscles, tendons, blood to replenish them.

Secondly, a dark instinct. One he hated, despite- no, _because_ _of_ the fact that it arose every time there was a chance of danger. Protect Penelope at all costs. Eliminate the threat. Get the heck _away_ from the threat.

If he couldn't kill it, put it in as much pain as possible so it would _never come near them again_.

Thirdly, irritation. What the heck, that response was supposed to have been erased long ago.

"Yo." Tanner smiled lopsidedly again. "I'd shake your hand, but I feel like BS right now. I'm Tanner, my sis here is Penelope, and you are?"

"sans the skeleton."

Tanner nodded. "Well met, Sans."

* * *

Tanner sat down stiffly at the table.

Papyrus had managed to procure a couple of chairs, and a cane. Under most circumstances Tanner would have refused, but he hurt too much to complain.

Oh, yeah. Papyrus.

Sans' polar opposite twin.

Who was also a skeleton. He was everything that Sans was not- tall, very awake, loud and defined in his speech, pun-despising (though very fond of japes), not grinning so much as perpetually smiling, eager to help and so utterly... _innocent_ that Tanner and Penelope were stunned.

And, apparently, a pasta master.

Tanner awkwardly twirled his fork, put it in his mouth, and chewed.

Huh.

It didn't lack in spaghetti, or sauce, or just anything in general.

Didn't really have too much of anything, either.

But- It tasted _really freaking good_.

Tanner blinked away his shock and dug in.

Gradually he became aware of a pair of incredulous eyes. He glanced where instinct told him to, and there was Penelope, gawking at him like he'd grown five more ears.

"What?" he mumbled around a mouthful of the amazing pasta.

"Nng," she strangled out.

He didn't know what to do, so he just blinked and made a thumbs up.

He could eat this allll day.

* * *

Penne didn't know how he did it. I mean, she was _ravenous_ and the very smell of this… abomination turned her stomach. Eating it made her feel better, and, well, it was better than nothing. Barely.

Sans twirled the last bite of spaghetti on his fork, piled it right side up on the prongs, set it down on the edge of his plate and swung his fist down on the handle. Everyone halted what they were doing to watch the (strangely majestic) arc of the pasta wad.

… As it landed with a wet _smack_ on Tanner's face.

Nothing happened for about 30 seconds.

Then a terrible, raking, guttural sound edged its way into existence.

Everyone cringed, and instinctively scanned their surroundings for the source. Tanner's shoulders were shaking. As they watched, he doubled over, leaning his forehead on the table.

"Oh, my God, Penelope," he gasped. "Your face! You were like-" He screwed up his face into an expression of complete, deer-in-the-headlights shock. Sans began sniggering. "Tanner, you sound _awful_." Outwardly, she was firm and mother-henning, but internally she relaxed. Laughing was good. It meant he was getting better. "Promise me you'll do something."

"HUMAN! WHAT _WAS_ THAT? ARE YOU OKAY? I THOUGHT I HEALED YOU!"

Tanner leaned back on his chair, still gasping raggedly and giggling weakly. "Dude, I'm fine. All I need right now is rest and time, and I'll be back to normal." He grinned. "I think I'll need a shower, though. Your sauce is soaking through the front of my shirt."

Papyrus glared at Sans. "SAAAAAANS, YOU HAVE DEFILED OUR GUEST! COME ON!"

Sans winked. "well, i never said it was…"

Papyrus groaned.

"im- **pasta** -ble." He winked at Tanner, who grinned in return.

"Just point me to the shower already."

* * *

 **'Kay, so, uh... I'm not the best at uhm uhhh fluff or brotherly stuff or endings really at ALL. So, uh, definitely something. Lacking.**

 **Also hitting enter seems to be my new thing huh**

 **Read and Review! pay close attention to that last part, I mean it! All you have to do is, like, put an emoji and you will instantly become liked, I promise. Words are okay, too : D**

 **I am BRAND NEW FOLKS so** **SERIOUSLY I DON'T CARE IF IT'S NEGATIVE I NEED ALL THE HELP I NEED**

 **Sans: maybe if i throw spaghetti at him we'll see if he has homicidal tendencies (and i might even get some laughter into the bargain)  
Sans isn't very fond of homicidal humans, especially if they're within a 50-mile radius of his brother. Jokes are programmed into his SOUL, though.**


	3. Chapter 3: Dream

Sans tramped up the staircase.

Work in two days. Two humans in the house- no telling how well that'd go.

For him, very quiet chaos.

So reading Paps a bedtime story should be nice and relaxing, because, y'know, staples and all.

Crud, he probably just jinxed himself. At least it hadn't been out loud.

He knocked a couple times on the doorframe and pushed the door open.

There was his bro, sitting up in bed, looking over-the-top-excited, as per the usual.

"so," mumbled Sans, "what tonight?"

"THIS ONE!" sang Pap. He held out _A Study in Advanced Puzzle Making_ , a (thankfully short) novel that one of the great puzzle makers had written in their retirement.

"kay." he flipped through the pages, before pausing and looking up. "i think i got deja vu. where were we again?"

"UUUUGH, CHAPTER FOUR, YOU NUMBSKULL!"

After a few false starts (reading the book upside down and backwards), Sans finally got going. The _Study_ was kind of heady, but there were a few funny jokes and riddles scattered throughout. Whether or not that was suitable payment for using the word _albeit_ waaaaaay (as in _waaaaaaaay_ ) too many times was still a bit of a **puzzle** for him. As per the usual, he only had to read five or so paragraphs until his brother was out like a light. It still quietly amazed him, how small he was in sleep. Paps didn't even _snore_ , which was faintly alarming.

Sans smiled and closed the book, noting the page number before sliding it onto the headboard.

He was a moment away from turning the doorknob before Pap's voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Sans?"

He started internally. Huh.

"Yeah?"

Papyrus was in a 'whatever i'm thinking' position-arms folded behind his skull, gazing thoughtfully up at the ceiling.

"The taller human, Tanner, I… They were different."

Sans waited, presence quietly encouraging him to continue.

Patient, as ever.

"When I tried to heal them… Well, you know how it feels when you heal someone?"

"yep."

"This felt more like… Like raising them from the dead, or-or bringing them back from the very brink of it."

Sans sighed and dragged a hand down his face. "yeah, when i tried to heal him a little, before i dragged you over here… their soul was just this

tiny point of light. shoulda been dead a while back."

His frown deepened. "Nyeh… Humans complicate everything. I am supposed to turn them in, but they are nice, and sick, and… Just… Nyeh."

Sans felt an uncomfortable pang. "Nyeh" was commonly a chuckle, uncommonly a sound of happy amazement, and rarely- as in, _never_ \- a sound of utter bewilderment. Sans had heard it four time in his life, including these two; taking into account their longevity, and how freaking much Papyrus spoke… It was definitely not good.

"well," mumbled Sans, "I'm just **dead** beat. In fact, one could even say…"

Papyrus groaned. "SAAAAANNSS…"

" **bone** tired." He grinned from the doorway, though he didn't really have much of an option. "night, bro. sleep tight."

Papyrus yawned. "GOOD NIGHT, BROTHER."

Sans closed the door softly behind him.

Paps was out in a matter of minutes.

* * *

Okay, probably rude to ask, and all, but…

 _Why_ did skeletons have shampoo?

I mean, hey, it wasn't like he was _complaining_ or anything. Neither he nor Penne had taken a decent hot shower in weeks. It was kind of amazing, how quickly one adapted to sponge baths, cold water and hand soap.

But, seriously. Why?

Guess I'll never know.

Tanner scrubbed his head with his fingertips, moving downwards and scratching his shoulders and arms with his fingernails. Ew. I had no idea that much dead skin could accumulate on you.

Ew2.

Tanner washed his entire being twice until he was lobster-red and his skin was stinging slightly. Then he scrubbed off the water with a towel…

And passed the mirror.

Uh.

Uhh.

hWow.

He knew he was an unhealthy, I-don't-get-to-eat-much thin, but…

Dang.

If he got any thinner, he'd be able to see his carpals.

Tanner could count all of his ribs. Clearly. His cheekbones were(too) defined, his radius and ulna were practically visible near his wrist. The skin on his feet was worryingly tight on the bones.

Probably should have gotten that third helping of spaghetti, ha. Ha.

And also, his scars were… different. Not _gone_ , but they weren't raised and the skin around them was no longer puckered; they were a shiny silver-pink now, like salmon near the spine. Hm. that was new. Then again, Papyrus _did_ say he'd healed Tanner. Technically, scars were already healed. But hey. This was _magic_. Unexplained science, yo. Anything could happen.

(Most anything.)

Tanner snapped out of it and walked over to where he'd carefully folded his clothes to find a different, _cleaner_ pile with a note on top.

 **fat chance.**

 **some of Pap's old clothes. he was pretty lanky, so these should fit.**

 **i burned your old clothes.**

 **jk**

 **-sans**

As luck would have it, Papyrus' clothes did indeed fit. Tanner'd had to roll up the cuffs on his pants and shirt, but essentially they were perfect. He padded out of the bathroom- Papyrus' shoes were _huge_ \- and ran right into Penne.

"I feel _alive_ again," He said. "... What?"

Penelope was grinning from ear to ear. "It's so CUTE!"

Tanner rolled his eyes. "Whaaat? Tell me already.

She squealed. " _Sans is reading Papyrus a bedtime story and it is ADORABLE!_ "

He laughed painfully. "Why am I not surprised." A gleam entered his eye. "Y'know… Haven't done this in a while… Might be a little rusty but…" He lunged forward and threw his bird-light little sister over his shoulder. "TICKLE FIGHT!" he roared. Penelope squealed even louder than before and beat on his back with her fists. "Stoppitstoppitstoppitlemmego-" Until he goosed her in the ribs, making her break into a deep, braying, undignified belly laugh. "SUBMIT! I COMMAND THEE!"

"Nooooo neve- ahahahAHAHA!"

He toyed with her, feinting and letting her slip through his arms before pounding after her and scooping her up. One time, he bashed his finger really hard against the table, but it quickly reached that point of pain where he could ignore it. Eventually, he got exhausted of sprinting around the first floor like a maniac and fell against the couch, wheezing. He was tired, but it was a _good_ kind of tired.

Tanner didn't notice that Sans had come down the stairs until he greeted him. Tanner replied with a wink.

"you're gonna hafta sleep down here again."

"If you're apologizing, don't," said Tanner abruptly. "Me and sis haven't had food _and_ a hot shower _and_ a dependable roof over our heads _and_ clean clothes in one night- well, one week, really- for… Way too long. So thanks."

Sans winked back.

"welcs."

* * *

" _Tanner."_

" _I'm_ fine _."_

" _Tan-NER."_

" _I'm perfectly all right you need to eat-"_

" _TANNER, I swear I will not eat a bite until I see you eat something."_

 _That stopped him in his tracks._

" _You woul-"_

"Just try me _."_

" _UUUUUUGH fiiiiiiine," he groaned theatrically. He picked up the burglarized burger, took a huge bite, and swallowed, barely chewing. "Your turn."_

 _They passed it back and forth until there was nothing left._

 _They split the fries._

 _Tanner looked very annoyed, but also less tense, now that the worst of the hunger had left, for now. They curled up together. Both of their eyes closed, but Tanner was still awake._

 _It was summer now. Autumn was fast approaching. After that would come winter. He didn't know_ what _the fudge he'd do then._

 _All he could do right now was cross that bridge when he came to it._

 _He fell asleep._

 _A shadow fell across their bodies._

 _There was a silent flash of light._

 _Both they and the shadow disappeared._

 _Pain._

 _Terror._

 _Desperation._

 _Loneliness._

" _Subjects eleven and fourteen…"_

" _I no longer have any use for you."_

Penne woke with a sob of terror.

Oh my _God_ she was _right there_ -

"Penny. C'mere."

She crawled onto his lap, shaking.

"It's okay," he mumbled, still bleary from lack of sleep. "She can't get us here. We're safe."

In time, she calmed down, and went back to sleep.

Penelope woke to the sound of pots and loud humming. She yawned enormously, refraining from stretching until she noodled out of Tanner's arms. Heh. Still out cold. A perfect example of why she wasn't surprised he and Sans got along so well. She stretched luxuriously, feeling much better than yesterday. Penne padded into the kitchen to see Papyrus filling a pot with water.

"What're ya makin'?" she mumbled.

"BREAKFAST SPAGHETTI!" sang Papyrus.

" _What_?!" she yelped. "Oh, no. Nonono. No _no_. Spaghetti is for lunch and dinner _only_."

"YES, BUT THIS IS ESPECIALLY FOR BREAKFAST!"

Sigh.

Why art thou so _adorable_. Seriously, Pap, you're breaking my heart.

"Okay, as we've clearly reached an impasse, I'll do a compromise." She held out her hand. "I will show you my secret breakfast recipe… If you _promise_ to cook it, for breakfast, every once in awhile. Deal?"

"UHHH…" Papyrus began to sweat(do NOT ask me how). "OOH, YOU DRIVE A HARD BARGAIN, SMALL HUMAN… UHHHH…" He squinched his eye sockets shut and thrust out his hand, like it was betraying him. "DEAL!" he squeaked.

Penelope shook his hand.

3 eggs, 1 loaf of french bread, some milk, some spices, a loooot of oil, a cast-iron skillet and a plate later…

"WHAT DO YOU CALL THIS AGAIN, HUMAN? GERMAN ROAST?"

"French toast."

"OH! I KNEW THAT."

…

"WHAT DO YOU NEED?"

"Maple syrup. It is a _crime_ against huma- uh, sapient- no, um… Culinary… uh… whatsit to eat french toast without syrup."

"HMMM… I THINK I MAY HAVE SOME IN THE PANTRY…"

* * *

 _He was in a room. All was still, silent, dark, devoid of life. Everything was in shades of gray, black and white. There was no point of entry, no form of exit. In front of him was a mirror._

 _His reflection was… Not wrong. Not right either. Just…_

 _Different._

 _He stepped closer to the mirror. His reflection did the same. Curiously, he put his hand up to mirror._

 _Too late, he noticed his reflection, smiling eerily, wasn't moving._

 _The mirror reached out, gluing itself to his hand and swallowing him, from the hand outward._

 _When it covered his eyes, everything went black for a few moments._

 _Then Tanner could breathe and see again, and there was color._

 _When he looked at his hands, there was nothing but bone._

* * *

Tanner flew upright, much to the protest of his limbs, who were still working overtime to keep him going, thank you. He hissed through his teeth until the pain subsided into a dull ache. His nose caught an unfamiliar, irresistible smell and dragged him by the nostrils into the kitchen, where he saw something inconceivable.

"Penelope? Since when do you _cook_?"

Penelope turned around, beamed, and hugged him around the waist. 'Say hello to Penelope's french toast!" she said, voice squeaky with pride. "Y'know, I always thought you were a pasta person, but I guess you proved me wrong. Papyrus, if you helped, I could _kiss_ you."

Papyrus flushed pale orange.

Tanner winked cheekily. "I know, I'm such a huge flir-" He broke down into a hacking cough- a deep "kugh kugh" sound that sounded dry and thick. "Ouch," he rasped, eyes streaming. "Okay, cold, I get it. No more flirting with amazing skeletons." Kugh, kugh, kugh. Pant. Tanner glanced at his hand, cuz that _really_ didn't feel like saliva or mucus or anything that disgusting.

Four ruby specks of blood glowed up at him, surreal in their intense reality.

Uh.

Oops…

Definitely not supposed to be happening.

Ugh. Stupid nerves, _yes_ it is _very handy_ to be able to walk on a broken leg and not feel anything, but I enjoy having a heads-up when terminally ill. Yes, you. Grrr.

But in the meanwhile…

He wiped his hand on his pants (feeling faintly guilty. Oh, well, good thing Papyrus had outgrown them) and began to ramble about trying some of that delicious, artery clogging food, hmm? And in general trying very, very hard to distract everyone until he could think about this alone somewhere.

Sans narrowed his eyes slightly.

Hm.

Welp.

This was new.

* * *

 **OMG Tanner you STUPID IDIOT PUNCTURED LUNGS ARE SERIOUS COME ON YOU'RE MY MAIN CHARACTER HERE**

 **Sigh… Stubborner than a mule, I tell you.**

 **I wonder what this means he has to feel pain surely?**

 **Everbody has different takes stuff like the skelebros' bedtime, and I, being wildly unaccustomed to anything even vaguely fluffy, had to tread candyfloss until the plot threw me a tire labelled "Impending Doom". Since I felt guilty for not updating in a while you guys get a longer-than-normal chapter... I think.**

 **But Paps wasn't talking in all caps for once- he was very thoughtful and serious. Sans can only** _ **consciously**_ **pun- though the ability does come to him naturally, haha.**

 **IF YOU READ THIS PLZ PLZ PLZ REVEIW**

 **THEY KEEP ME GOIN**


	4. Chapter 4 Oh, hello- WAIT WHAT

Frisk woke.

The shell got up.

Flowey once more ran his script; for the millionth time, Toriel intervened, oblivious of the many times she had done so.

Frisk was a puppet, nothing more, a shell through which someone acted, a player (a god) only two characters could see. One was an insane abomination against the laws of nature who never asked to be created; the other was someone who had two jobs- one secret- and a brother to take care of, someone who had a heavier weight on his shoulders than any could guess.

When the queen brought the child to the dummy, they chose FIGHT instead of ACT and MERCY. There were only a few paths they could traverse now.

So be it.

* * *

Tanner heaved a sigh and sat down on the stoop.

Once you got past the fact that there was a television, a thousand and one windows looking out over a _freaking monster village underground_ , and they were in a house with two walking, talking skeletons…

There wasn't really that much to do.

Humans, as he had learned from Papyrus (occasionally pun-terrupted by Sans), were not especially welcomed in monster society. Both had been reluctant to give up some facts, but he knew there was a dead prince involved somehow.

Anything, he knew was better being _there_ , with _her_.

Sans plopped down beside him, making Tanner almost jump out of his skin. The skeleton smirked. "'ey."

"'Sup," Tanner replied.

Sans shrugged offhandedly. "meh. same ol', same ol'. work tomorrow, coupla human kids in the house. nothin' could go wrong."

A slow smile spread across Tanner's face. "Are you _implying_ something?"

"now, why would i do that? it just wouldn't be **ice**."

" **Snow** way," said Tanner. "A fellow punner! Penne hates all mine… Though some of them I am slightly ashamed of."

"tell me," urged Sans.

"Ugh, fine. I used that really cliche one- punny- and I've made some pasta puns at Penelope's expense- thought that was less "shame" so much as "my shins were sore from her kicking them"."

They both chuckled at that for a second.

"welp. work tomorrow." Sans stifled a yawn. Tanner felt a brief pang of worry for the half-stranger- the way he acted, he probably only got sleep through the profuse naps he was so fond of taking. Tanner knew how that felt. "i should prolly recalibrate my puzzles, but hey, not like it matters, right?" he let out a short, bitter bark of laughter. "and since i can't really find a way to break this to ya gently…" His eye sockets went dark. Tanner felt a primeval flicker of terror snake across his neck and collarbone.

"If you harm so much as a single metaphorical hair on my brother's skull, **.** "

"... Uh," gulped Tanner, unconsciously leaning away from the forbidding figure of a deadly brother.

Deadly brother…

"In which case," he said, straightening up, "The same goes for Penne."

His grin got wry. "don't worry," he said. "i'll pun her so hard, she will definitely regret it."

Tanner rolled his eyes. "You know what I mean, you numskull."

"yeah. i can respect that."

Sans stood up, a few flakes of snow falling off his shoulders. "oh, and by the way… ain't the red stuff supposed to stay inside you?"

Tanner immediately went poker-faced. "Blood, you mean? Yeah, as a general rule it's best that it doesn't come out. Why?"

"Huh." he gave Tanner an odd look- half exasperation, half curiosity. "if that's the way ya wanna play it, fine." Sans winked. "if you want some privacy, just lock the bathroom door. it's impregnable."

He walked back into the house, humming as he went.

Leaving an extremely bemused Tanner.

* * *

Papyrus and Sans had left an hour ago. Papyrus had left a blinding tornado of tips, rules, and just-in-case spaghetti. Sans had just cracked a few puns- and, much more worryingly, an "I'm watching you" gesture with a cheerful grin on his face and completely lacking in pupils. Penne was napping on the couch, and Tanner had taken the opportunity to figure out what was wrong.

He silently closed the door and locked it, turning to the mirror. He tugged off his shirt and began to examine his torso. Somewhere around the upper half of his chest…

Ah. _There_ it was.

There was a small, inconspicuous dip on the right of his chest where a breast pocket might be. Inconspicuous except for the fact that it didn't occur on the other side. He brushed his fingers over the dent. Frost laced up his ribs and though where he guessed where his lung was.

Crud.

Punctured lung. How do you even fix that? Because if he didn't figure out soon, his lung would fill with fluid and he'd suffocate, regardless of whether or not he could feel it.

Uuuuuugh. Why him, of all people. All he wanted was a normal life, with a c average in school, worrying about girls and doing stupid things with his friends. BUT NOOOOOO OF COURSE NOT.

Someone knocked on the door.

His heart jumped in his chest. His imagination began to run wild; he tried to dispel them- _it's just Papyrus, it's just Papyrus_ \- but to no avail. He stalked across the living room carpet, careful not to wake Penne. Good _God_ , he was about to pound the door off its hinge-

The door crashed open.

Tanner looked up into the face of a red-haired, blue-scaled, finned female fish monster.

"Tanner?" called a drowsy Penelope. "Who is it?"

There was only one word for this.

* * *

Undyne's eyes snapped wide open.

She'd been meaning to check on Papyrus, who had missed his Friday cooking lesson. It was kind of unlikely that he was still here this late- 8:30- but you never knew.

And now a human was staring up at her, frozen in terror like a frog before a snake. Another called from the living room.

Betrayal.

Undyne hissed, summoned a spear, and hurled it with deadly precision into Tanner's chest.

* * *

"... HAS BEEN EIGHT DAYS AND YOU STILL. HAVEN'T... RECALIBRATED. YOUR. PUZZLES! YOU JUST HANG AROUND YOUR STATION! WHAT ARE YOU EVEN DOING?!"

Sans felt his nonexistent heart ache.

Curse the script. Curse this life. Curse the f-ing, g'danged code.

"staring at this lamp. it's really cool. do you wanna look?"

"NO!" Papyrus began to stomp the snow. "I DON'T HAVE TIME FOR THAT! WHAT IF A HUMAN COMES THROUGH HERE!? I WANT TO BE READY! I WILL BE THE ONE! I MUST BE THE ONE! I WILL CAPTURE A HUMAN! THEN I," he continued, cape fluttering in a coincidental breeze, "THE GREAT PAPYRUS, WILL GET ALL THE ALL THE THINGS I UTTERLY DESIRE! FAME… RECOGNITION… I WILL FINALLY BE ABLE TO JOIN THE ROYAL GUA-"

A bone-shaking _boom_ rolled over them…

Right where their house should be.

(had been.)

* * *

 **SORRY NOT SORRY**

 **This will be part one of… three? Nah, make it four. I** _ **always**_ **write too much.**

 **I finally get an ending right! Yay!**

 **Thank you guys so much for reading this. It's probably one of the most uplifting things in the world, looking at my traffic stats. {insert happy crying face here}**

 **Read and review!**

 **Just to clear things up; T and P don't know Undyne's name, and vice versa. Sans has fuzzy reset memories, except for things that stick out (i.e., Pap dusting). If you have any questions, put it in a review. Guests can review, FYI.**


	5. Chapter 5: Nightmare reality

**This gets a little bloody. Just to let ya'll know.**

 **There's also a teeeeeeeny bit of swearing towards the end.**

 **Read on...**

* * *

 **Several minutes previously**

Tanner, pinned to the wall, locked eyes with his sister- currently the only thing that mattered- and said through frost-chilled lips, "Penne, _run_. Get help." Then he pulled out the spear, solid magic sliding against blood and bone and sinew, and planted his feet.

Penne sprinted for a window and stopped in her tracks when a crackling blue spear lodged itself firmly into the sill, half a centimeter from her nose. She screamed.

"Oh, no you _don't_ ," grinned Undyne viciously. "You aren't leaving until I let you, _human_."

"You will have to go through me," said Tanner quietly, "Before you lay a finger on my sister."

Undyne cackled. "Siblings? What _luck_ ," she half-snarled. "That should strengthen the connection by quite a bit, I think-" and rammed another spear. Tanner tried to dodge, and instead got an armful of magic. He gritted his teeth and yanked it out, subsequently lobbing it inexpertly back to his offender. By sheer luck, it flew point-first. Undyne easily sidestepped it, smirking.

Everything dissolved into monochrome- except for Tanner. Only one thing mattered- the bobbing, nimble figure in front of him- so that was the only thing he saw. That, and Penelope. Spear after spear after spear stabbed him, causing the frost to lance (ha!) further and deeper. The only way the fight could end for him was collapsing from exhaustion, and that would spell the end for Penne. On it dragged, until his vision was fuzzy and his reflexes slow. He stood fast, facing the hundred-and-first spear.

It dissolved in front of his face.

A manic expression spread across his mouth.

The battle was now in his favor.

* * *

Undyne was getting increasingly frustrated.

This had to be, like, fifty bajillion spears, and he STILL WAS NOT DEAD. WHY?!

Infuriated, she lobbed several more in his direction. The stupid thing had figured out how to combat her spears, and he hadn't even done it twice. There was the tiny possibility that it was a feint, but if it was, she could handle it. Being the Captain of the Royal Guard gave her an _extreme_ advantage in the body language reading department. She was finally beating him down, anyway- she couldn't kill him now, but if he collapsed, it would be all the easier for the King to take his soul.

The smaller human had stopped its bawling and whimpering long ago; now, it was just in a constant state of frozen terror. It was much smaller and younger, which meant its soul was purer. She could carry the larger for sure- probably one-handed- and that would leave room to keep a spear in its back while they walked along.

If she could just FREAKING KILL THIS THING ALREADY-

In a blinding array of strokes with a hijacked spear, the taller human easily sidestepped every single spear- except for the ones that he couldn't- and yanked, with inhuman strength, the top of her breastplate down to where they were eye to eye(s). She looked at his grinning, empty face and felt a tiny bit afraid.

An unearthly hissing filled the air. Undyne realized what it was half a second before it blasted her through the wall, twelve meters through the air, and zero anythings through tree trunk.

Magic.

Everything went dark.

* * *

When Tanner fought, he became…

 _Less_.

Humans, as a whole, weren't much different from monsters- just more passionate, more potent. More passionate about things they believed in. Passionate about things they loved. More potent when angered or endangered or terrified. But they could feel love and mourned their dead and they were sapient. So could monsters. However, humans were more inclined to violence than monsters- who, in a way, were more animalistic in that they tried every possible path before socking someone in the kisser. They would hide, flee, talk. Fighting was a last resort.

Less was a state of being. Less meant that you were neither human, monster, or animal. You were a monster without compassion, hope and love. You were a human with potency only for hatred, passion only for pain and fear and death. You were an animal with the capacity to murder instead of kill.

Less.

It was a terrible, powerful thing to be.

Tanner's conscious mind retreated to a nice, warm corner of his brain until the danger was over.

Like now.

He blinked. His eyes felt hot, dry and itchy. Blinking didn't fix it. Huh. maybe his tear ducts shorted out or something? He looked down at his hands, back up to the hole in the wall, and over at Penny.

Unthinkingly, he reached out, her name stuck in his throat.

She flinched.

Everything got dropped into a bottomless pit.

 _Shitshitshit_ shit _ohGodwhathaveidonewhathaveidon E_

He ran, vision blurred, a fresh blizzard starting and mingling with the tears on his face.

* * *

Sans swore under his breath. He had freaking _liked_ that g'dang house, for heaven's sake. Apparently, humans caused chaos wherever they went. Stupid things.

"... SANS?"

He turned to his brother. The expressionless human had come out from behind the lamp. Papyrus was looking so beyond puzzled, there wasn't even a word for it. "uh. just, uh. stay here. don't go _anywhere_." that last one was directed mostly to the kid, who was looking faintly puzzled. "and if you touch my brother, i will kill you and kick your corpse. 'm gonna go check on penelope and tanner, 'kay?"

Papyrus blinked. His expression migrated from "baffled to the power of five" to "oh hey that cloud looks li- WAIT WHAT NO NO NO DON'T LEAVE ME NOW I AM ATTEMPTING TO THINK".

"SANS-"

 _Vvmmzzzz_.

He bellowed incoherently at the area where there was previously a rip in space.

Too late.

* * *

Sans stepped into his utterly wrecked living room. Ah, man, I liked that couch. I spent some extremely memorable dreams on that couch.

Cry later. Use spine now.

He tried to knock on the door. No door. Or door _frame_ , for that matter. He knocked on the wall instead. "hello?"

An amoeba rose from the- nope, that was Penelope. "S-sans?"

"comic sans, in fact."

Penelope sobbed and, before he could react, she had a quivering, terrified, worried-out-of-her-mind small human strapped around his coat, crying. Sans blinked. "uh."

"Sans, y-you have to help me!" sobbed Penelope hysterically. "Y-you have to-"

"actually," said Sans, cutting off her sentence with a finger on her lips, "you need to calm down _right now_ before you do anything else. deep breath." Penelope gulped air like a fish out of water for a while, until her breathing returned to shaky normality. "SansyouhavetogogetTannerheranoffandIdon't-"

Sans yelped and slapped his palm over her mouth. "slow. down."

She gasped for air again and tried for the third time;"Some giant fish lady came and wrecked your place (by the way I'm very sorry about that) and she attacked Tanner, he kicked her butt and ran off into the woods somewhere and she's on the table and she doesn't look too hot and _I need your help already!_ "

"uh-"

She dragged him into the kitchen, spouting even more panicked information. On the table lay Undyne, who was looking a bit more green around the gills than normal. Sans checked her.

HP: 500/1500  
ATK: 50

DF: 20

 _Confused and betrayed._

He winced at that last one. Definitely _not_ me. Nope.

Sans turned to Penelope. "she's fine. i'll go find tanner." He zipped up his hood and handed penelope a cell phone. "you need any help, ring me up. don't go into my room unless it's a life-death situation, don't make spaghetti with undyne, and if she stampedes around my house again trying to kill you, tell her i will personally kick her butt and hand it to her on a platter. ciao."

He waded into the snow to follow fast-disappearing footprints, flipping up his hood with a fretful Penelope and an unconscious Undyne in his wake.

* * *

 **Don't worry, I'll post the next on in a few hours, I promise.**

 **Frost=pain, btw.**  
 **Sans prooooooobably shouldn't have left the genocidal human with his most valued** **possession** **person.**  
 **And no, animals don't murder; murder is a crime of passion/hatred. Animals just kill for food. Unless they're cats, who have absolutely NO EXCUSE to go around killing someone else's kits. Yes, grumpyguts, I am talking to you.**

 **SOMEBODY HELP MEEEE I CAN'T WRITE PAPYRUS AAAAAAA**

 **sob**

 **Thank you, all, for reading this. It fills me with** **DETERMINATION** **joy.**


	6. Chapter 6: This game is rigged

**I am kind of obscenely proud of this chapter. Can i do that? is that allowed?**

* * *

Tanner peeled off another flake of bark.

Wow.

How did you even manage _square bark_?

That just took talent.

He held it out to the side, over the bough he was straddling, and let it fall thirty or so feet to the small but substantial pile at the base of the slim pine trunk. So far, his efforts at thinking about absolutely nothing at all were succeeding very well indeed. Tanner absentmindedly brushed the snow off his hair. After several minutes of craning his head upwards and staring at the cavern ceiling in the tallest tree for miles around, he was still unable to deduce where the h-e-double-hockey-sticks the precipitation came from. Poop.

Tanner peeled off more red-brown bark.

Something tickled the edge of his hearing. Under most circumstances, he would have ignored it.

This was not most circumstances.

He froze, hardly daring to breathe. There was a zero and one-bajillionth chance of someone looking up. His life had taught him to take **no** chances.

 _Crunch._

 _Crunch._

 _Crunch._

 _Crunch._

The soft _fff_ sound of snow on snow. Faint laughter, wafting from a long distance on an impossible breeze.

"knock knock."

Tanner bit his lip hard enough for frost to envelop it and fought the blackness.

"you're supposed to say, "who's there?"

He gripped the bough. _I will not let you you've hurt too much stop!_

"plaza."

 _No no no no no NO_

"plaza who?"

He abandoned his 'stay still no matter what' regime and clutched his head in a half-futile attempt to ward off the darkness. _GET OUT OF MY HEAD!_

"plaza come out, come out wherever your are. this wind and snow is chillin' me to the **bone** , bro."

For a moment, everything was touch-and-go. An almighty struggle twixt Tanner and insanity raged, unseen, unheard, unknown.

A field of golden flowers and red leaves. "Come out, come out wherever you are," sang a child. Wild laughter deafened him. "And you thought that you were in control!? Oh, this is sweet indeed, Tanner Constantinesson! Sweeter than butterscotch pie!" His jaw opened wide to scream in silence at the furious torrent of incandescent _pain_.

And then it was over.

He was sweating like he'd just ran 40k at a flat-out sprint, without a break. Sweat wasn't good in this cold.

"kid…"

His hands shake.

"you can't run from yourself."

A splitting headache begins.

A short, bitter laugh, and more crunching footsteps.

Tanner slumped against the trunk and stared at the stalactites far above, and wondered if they ever wanted to fall, just to see what it was like to

shatter into a thousand pieces.

"i mean, i should know. I tried, believe me."

He drew a palm his face.

"but the one thing you can't run from?"

He rubbed his arms in a halfhearted attempt to ward off the numbness.

"it's yourself."

There is a _pff_ ing noise below. Sans had kicked some snow.

"your shadows are the things that know you best, but it's your friends and your family that look out for you. care for you. love you."

Two people wished they could lose themselves in the stars.

"it's really easy to give other people chances."

"so, just be brave and give yourself one. i have."

Tanner slowly climbed down the pine.

Sans, five feet away, gives him an empty stare.

Tanner, compelled to break the silence, gave an awkward little wave. "Hey."

Sans' permasmile twitched. "nice ta have you back, kiddo."

Tanner winced heavily. "You say that now."

Sans arched an eyebrow. "and i mean it." he turned around. "c'mon. I left my brother with Them. and i made a promise."

Tanner followed, like a sheep.

* * *

The Great Papyrus was showing the human his puzzles.

The electricity maze… well.

The colored square puzzle malfunctioned.

Perhaps if he'd put down a Junior Jumble instead of a word search, they would have attempted to solve it.

The frozen spaghetti remained untouched.

The snow puzzle was solved.

The xoxo puzzles were largely unbarred.

The Gauntlet Of Deadly Terror was a tad intimidating.

And now, mist curled through snow-covered soil.

"HALT, HUMAN!"

They stepped closer.

"HEY, QUIT MOVING WHILE I'M TALKING TO YOU!"

If Papyrus could see through the mist, he would have seen the vaguely interested expression on their face.

"I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, HAVE SOME THINGS TO SAY. FIRST, YOU'RE A FREAKING WEIRDO! NOT ONLY DO YOU NOT LIKE PUZZLES, BUT THE WAY YOU SHAMBLE ABOUT PLACE TO PLACE… THE WAY YOUR HANDS ARE ALWAYS COVERED IN DUSTY POWDER." he fidgeted faintly. "IT FEELS… LIKE YOUR LIFE IS GOING DOWN A DANGEROUS PATH."

(Understatement of the year.)

He straightened up. "HOWEVER! I, PAPYRUS, SEE GREAT POTENTIAL IN YOU!"

(What.)

"EVERYONE CAN BE A GREAT PERSON IF THEY TRY! AND ME, I HARDLY HAVE TO TRY AT ALL!"

(If you had a heart, it would've melted like butter. Oh well.)

He chuckled heartily to dispel the fear.

They took another step closer.

"HEY, QUIT MOVING! THIS IS EXACTLY WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT! HUMAN! I THINK YOU ARE IN NEED OF GUIDANCE!"

(To put it mildly.)

"SOMEONE NEEDS TO KEEP YOU ON THE STRAIGHT AND NARROW!"

(they killed their conscience for money.)

"BUT WORRY NOT! I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, WILL GLADLY BE YOUR FRIEND AND TUTOR! I WILL TURN YOUR LIFE RIGHT

AROUND!"

They walked _much_ closer.

"I SEE YOU ARE APPROACHING."

They stared at him.

"ARE OFFERING A HUG OF ACCEPTANCE?"

…

"WOWIE! MY LESSONS ARE ALREADY WORKING!"

(I'll just look away now.)

"I, PAPYRUS, WELCOME YOU WITH OPEN ARMS!"

He spread his arms wide.

*Papyrus is sparing you.

 **FIGHT** ACT ITEM MERCY

He blinked as the knife struck him.

"Well…" he said quietly. "That's not what I expected."

His body crumbled to dust, leaving only his head.

"But… St-still…"

He brightened, impossibly.

"I BELIEVE IN YOU! YOU CAN DO A LITTLE BETTER! EVEN IF YOU DON'T THINK SO! I…"

They raised their foot.

"I promise…"

His head dissolved with a vicious _crunch_.

All that was left of the bright, bright spark that people called Papyrus was dust.

It smelled, very faintly, of bravery and spaghetti.

And, if you were determined enough, a promise.

* * *

Sans reached a clearing and stopped.

"... Sans?"

He just bowed his head.

Tanner crunched through snow, just in time to see a child- a _child_ \- crunch Papyrus' head underneath their right foot.

For the second time in less than three hours, everything got dropped into an eternal void.

Papyrus.

Innocent Papyrus.

Kind Papyrus.

Never-hurt-a-fly-except-on-accident-and-then-he-would-feel-guilty Papyrus.

The kindest soul in the multiverse.

Gone.

Just.

Like.

That.

For once, Tanner saw red instead of black. He charged the human with wordless, righteous rage for the priceless treasure that had lost, lost. They turned to him, emotionless, except for a faint, thoughtful frown. He tackled them. They fell down, down into pitch-black, ice-cold, life-stealing water. Tanner, kept alive by his utter fury, held them in a stranglehold. They don't budge, not even long after they should've gone into hypothermia or hypoxia. Eventually, they sink to the bottom of the river. _Thnk._ There is no mud or silt- the rock is scoured clean and smooth by cold and centuries of water. His vision grows fuzzy and his limbs leaden, but he's not about to let go. Not now.

Finally, _finally_ , a red heart bobs up through the water, smacking Tanner in his numb face.

It shatters.

* * *

 **That... was supposed to happen. really.**  
 **Whoever's playing this has to be like**

 **0 0'**  
 **_**

 **WELP GAME'S BROKE  
Or alternatively  
*you feel your sins crawling up your back.**

 **Zombie sins that eat your brains and leave zombie residue. I ship it.**

 **Tanner has a really thin sprite lol**  
 **No, I don't hate frisk. frisk is a shell here. The player? I'd punch the player even if it was me. COME ON PAPYRUS REALLY**

 **Thank yall for readin this. It means a lot to me. [happy/crying emoji]**

 **EDIT: Constantinesson is something I completely and utterly stole from the Inheritance Cycle/Christopher Paolini. Tanner was the son of someone who wwent by the name of Constantine... Which I also stole from Magesterium. "Stole" is my way of saying, "copyright this person".**


	7. Chapter 7: In which everything

**It shatters.**

Tanner was at the door, saying goodbye to Papyrus and Sans (but mostly chatty Papyrus).

He stared blankly into the middle distance. Logic was arguing that it had to have happened, because he remembered it and his imagination was just not that cruelly angst-filled. Reason argued that he was just daydreaming the future, which happened all the time to perfectly (in)sane people.

A splitting headache materialized and began to pound him in the head with elephants and hammers.

"Nnh," he grunted, falling against the doorframe for support.

Papyrus immediately stopped his continuinuinuous rant and picked up Tanner, feet dangling a few inches. "HUMAN, ARE YOU OKAY? WHAT IS WRONG? HOW CAN I HELP?"

"Um. Could I. Have a hug?"

Tanner was instantaneously wrapped up in a living, breathing(?), in-the-bone skeleton.

It was kind of awesome, how easily hugs could make you feel that much less alone. "Thanks, man. I really needed that."

"BUT OF COURSE!" he beamed. "GOODBYE, HUMANS! COME ALONG, SANS! I PROMISED DOGGO THAT I WOULD TAKE OVER HIS SHIFT…" His voice faded into the distance, Sans looking semi-interested in his surroundings as per the usual. Tanner, trapped at the door because he didn't have the heart to close it on the waving skeleton, had to wait until they disappeared behind some trees. He ambled into the living room in a daze. Penelope, sitting on the couch, was looking just as starstruck as he was. _Did that just happen?..._ he mouthed to her. She nodded, slowly. He slumped on the couch and put his head in his hands.

Where to even begin.

… On second thought, _how_ seemed pretty fudging suitable.

Sans materialized on the coffee table.

Penelope gave a little scream. Tanner started, blackness temporarily overtaking his vision. "You will not do that again," he said in a chillingly even voice. Penne sighed quietly and put an arm around his shoulders, to ground him in reality.

"kay," said Sans vaguely. "but in the meanwhile, what do you call something that's not in front of you?"

Tanner paused for a moment, thinking, and then gagged. "How can you even- ugh, you- you _human_."

"What?" asked Penne blankly.

"Something that's not in front of you is ahead," muttered Tanner bleakly. "A 'head', ha ha. Get it?"

Penelope blanched.

Sans winced visibly. "sorry, i had to check." He stifled a yawn. "ya'll'll prolly want an explanation."

Penelope gave him an icy glare. "Of **course** not," she said, voice oozing sarcasm like a ruptured slug. "I **so** enjoy being oblivious of wildly confusing events."

Sans grinned humongously. "i read you." He turned away and climbed the stairs. Tanner shrugged and followed, wincing at a sudden, piercing headache. _Drink more water_.

Sans opened the door to his room- unexplored territory- and flicked on the lights. He rummaged around in his desk for a moment; Penelope took the opportunity to investigate the swirling junk tornado (?), and Tanner chose to subtly examine himself.

His throat _was_ rather dry; the same went for his eyes. His leg ached where he had- where he _would_ break it. Several cuts, sustained when Undyne had gone completely berserk, though healed, still itched uncomfortably. His cheek hurt when he rubbed it- right where the three-dimensional heart had smacked him. Guess time travel didn't work like he wanted it to. Oh well.

"however," said Sans mildly, with a faint smirk-instead-of-smile. "in return for information… i will require explanations. can't go around not knowin' whether or not the people sleeping ten feet below my brother were homicidal maniacs in an earlier life."

Tanner twinged inwardly.

"Deal," blurted Penelope. Tanner blinked in surprise; Penelope usually thought things out.

(Maybe she had already…?)

(You underestimate your adopted sister, Tanner.)

"welp. better get started."

Sans recounted the resets- how the first few times, he became convinced he was insane, how afterwards, he knew that the truth was far worse; how the player could wipe the entire Underground at a whim, or befriend them all only to RESET once more. How he killed them, and killed them, and killed them, and yet they kept coming back. Sans' voice was a flat, even monotone- the spoken equivalent of a poker face- but his hands betrayed him by clenching. How a single human could eradicate them all, and three warring? Ha!

Penelope was the one to break the silence.

"It doesn't make sense," she said, quietly, half-afraid of shattering the blanket of quiet. "If they… travel back so many times, there must be differences, however small. The entire Underground shouldn't- shouldn't have a _script_ like this. I mean, they- the monsters, I mean- they're the same people, it makes sense that their reactions should be the same, but their words- there are a hundred million phrases in ten times as many languages that they could choose from, there must be some tiny variations in their speech from using different phrases that appeal to them in different situations. It shouldn't be like this, it's like- like some sick kind of game, and _They're_ the player."

"eh," said Sans. "i gave up on tryin' to understand long ago. it's easier to just accept it."

"I wasn't _made_ to accept the impossible," snapped Penelope irritably. "I was made to understand it." Tanner looked at her more closely. She wasn't annoyed, but worried. Odd. Irritation or anger used as a substitution for anxiety was normally a male reaction. Hormones could possibly have something to do with that; teenagers are always moody-

He snapped out of his musings. He never in a thousand years mused. How irregular.

Oh, wait. They were staring at him. Somebody had asked him a question. Crap.

"What?"

"I said, 'Tanner, do you want to explain?'"

"Um. Explain what?"

Penne gave him a worried look. "Explain what happened. To _us_."

What a cheerful change of subject. "Y-yes."

He inhaled deeply. This… was NOT going to be fun. In the loosest possible sense. He swallowed, hard.

"I was… fourteen. Penne was ten, but she was taken a few months after me. I was in Juvie- Juvenile Hall, 's a place for kids who commit felony and shoot someone and whatnot- so I think they just decided to say I got out of there somehow, probably dead cuz they never found me again. Ha. But, uh, this per- lady- no, _demoness_ named Patricia Demerez. She stole children- eighteen, staggered the used them for things that no human had ever dared imagine possible. Bio-weapons. Cures. Soldiers. Synthetic geniuses. The list just went _on_." Tanner looked away, bile coating the back of his tongue. "Within half a year, seven kids were dead. A full year, and I was taken. Three months later, we escaped. She found-" his voice wasn't supposed to crack, it had been a year ago, what was wrong with him-" found us in three weeks. She was pissed." He was quiet for a while, gathering his thoughts and simultaneously trying to keep the memories at bay.

Trying.

Darkness/Terror/Desolation/Desperation/Hatred/ _Kill her_ /Pain/ _She deserves it_ /Cold/ _You know you want to_ /Penne.

Penne Penne Penne Penne Penne _Penne_.

"We didn't escape the second time." How long had it been since he'd lost himself in remembrance? Too long. That was all he needed to know. "Penne was my light in the darkness. She was the only reason I ever kept going. And one day, I…" Tanner gave a short bark of laughter, devoid of amusement. "I found a scalpel. Everything from there on out was a blank, but the last thing I remember of that day was-" blood, bone, ash, dust, and frost, frost, frost. "Burning the place. Two kids 'sides us weren't dead yet- Pretty sure they got evacuated. Hope they did. We wandered for a while, eventually ended up here, was rescued by you guys. You know the rest."

There was a very long, overstuffed silence.

"that… was intense."

(understatement of the year.)

"We have phDs in intense, man." Weak, very weak, but it made them snort.

"well," says sans. "places to be."

Tanner stood up. "I'm coming."

Sans eyeballed (eyesocketed) him flatly. "no, you're not."

"Penelope's going to follow you whether you like it or not, and I go where she goes."

Sans looked back and forth between the two faces, and found nothing but iron determination.

"fine," he said shortly. "but you- _neither_ of you, under _any circumstances whatsoever_ , are allowed to interfere. comprende?"

Penne grinned. "Comprende, Comrade!"

Sans heaved a sigh. "don't make me regret this."

* * *

 **I WONDER WHAT COULD GO WRONG HMMMM**

 **Half of Tanner's story is left out. I'll trust you guys have read some science fiction and leave your brains to fill in the gaps. = )**

 **Curiously, he wasn't ever supposed to be an ubersoldier. He was part of a project to see if disabling nerves in a certain way could help people with specific diseases- and alternately, could be used in bioterrorism and what have you.**

 **Tanner never even liked the prospect of telling this story. He doesn't like having killed, even people he hated. He doesn't like what he became. Penelope wasn't just there for comic relief, either- she was part of a (Ironic humor ha ha) ubersoldier program, but the gig got dropped once it was discovered that Tanner was attached to her. He really only had one thing to lose- his life beforehand sucked anyway, he hated/ was neutral towards everyone in the facility, and towards the end, he couldn't even feel pain.**

 **As much as I like cliches(hey supersoldiers haven't i seen you before), I finally got plumb sick and tired of the whole "goody two shoes hero" and "evil head guy" nonsense. Take it from me, heroes can suck. And us ladies can be downright terrifying when we want to be *maniacal laughter***

 **Tanner, musing? He must be slipping. Couldn't be his punctured lung could it *coughcough HINT coughcough***

 **And finally, thank ya'll so friggin' much for commenting, reviewing, faving and following. It means a lot to me. Really.**

 **-MS**


	8. UPDATE UPDATE OPPOSITE OF DOWNDATE

No, I am very much alive.

I am not happy with this. Shattered Pieces is officially on hiatus, because I am the biggest perfectionist the world has ever seen and am vaguely irritated with how this turned out; I will most definitely keep chapters 1 & 2 the same, because I like them. Everything else is just poorly written (in my opinion, anway) because I have written better and _can_ write better, so I will.

Also, more importantly, I have written myshelf into a secret passageway behind a bookcase, which is full of corners, because this entire thing was adrenaline-fueled. Meaning, of course, that There was only the vaguest notion of a plot. Which is probably blasphemy, ehehe.

*goes scarlet and starts talking about the weather because my, isn't that an interesting cloud look*

So. When I return, Papyrus will be more Papyrus-y, Sans will actually say some puns (THANK THE LORD), and everything will be better.

Signing off temporarily,

MemorySteel

P.S. I have no Beta. How do I get one somebody help?


End file.
